


understudy (things we lost in the fire)

by falloutboiruto



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Child Abuse, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Non-Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboiruto/pseuds/falloutboiruto
Summary: Mitsuki might've died, but the show must go on. This is the story of his replacement.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	understudy (things we lost in the fire)

**Author's Note:**

> me: *loves mitsuki more than i can say*  
> also me: but what if he died tho?? and orochimaru just continued on with their experiments on another clone??? wouldn't that be interesting??
> 
> beta read by: @reaperduckling  
> title from: things we lost in the fire by bastille AND a quote from the show "community". yes it is a chang quote. it's hilarious but also fitting taken out of context

“Eenie, meenie, miney… _you_.”

At first, there was nothing but darkness. But then, he was suddenly gasping for air, coughing his lungs out, trying to get a breath in. He tried opening his eyes, but it was too bright. It hurt.

“He’ll do,” a cold, raspy voice said. “Clean him up and bring him to me.” Footsteps growing fainter, hands suddenly touching his shoulders, it was all too much too fast at once-

"You really do look just like him. Ugh, this is going to get ugly real fast," another man's voice said like he was talking to himself. "Buddy, things are going to be rough at first, ok?" This time, the man seemed to be speaking directly to him. His voice _pitying_ , of all things.

-

It turned out that he was, in fact, a clone. What being a clone meant, the clone didn't understand at all. Nontheless, he was one.

"Look. Your parent, they want to talk to you soon. They'll explain more," the man said. Voice still tilted in that sad direction. He had introduced himself, but the clone didn't remember his name.

The clone tried to orient himself but recognized nothing around him. The room he was in had bright lights in the ceiling, tiles on the walls, complicated and strange-looking equipment everywhere. The body he was in, or rather, the body he for all intents and purposes _was,_ seemed to be quite small compared to the other people he had seen. He fidgeted with the fabric of the clothes he had been given. It felt unfamiliar in his hands. But just about everything was unfamiliar, to be fair.

-

Being a clone meant being a genetic copy of someone. The clone was, apparently, made out of the same DNA as a person named Log.

“But he’s unimportant,” the person from before with the cold, raspy voice, who’d introduced themselves as the clone’s parent, _Orochimaru_ , said. “He’s a lost cause. But before you, there was another clone named Mitsuki. You should remember him.”

The clone did not remember this Mitsuki at all. He told his parent this much.

“I know,” his parent said, long black hair covering their eyes for a moment. “You don’t have any of his memories, sadly enough. He had the nerve to kick the bucket without my prior knowledge or permission. That’s the worst part about it.” They looked into the distance for a moment, facial expression betraying neither sadness or joy. Then, they smirked. “That’s where you come in. You’re Mitsuki’s replacement.”

-

The former Mitsuki had been a shinobi and had been on a team with other, fellow shinobi. The clone, a replacement as he was, was going to fill his shoes. And so, he and his parent traveled to their village to meet up with them.

The world around him was very overwhelming. There wasn’t much else to say. The more the clone learned, the more he didn’t understand.

-

The former Mitsuki's teammates(Team 7, they were called) turned out to be much younger-looking than the adults the clone had seen. Their team captain in the blue scarf was, in fact, an adult though. How old had the former Mitsuki been when he had died?

“--So, because of the current circumstances surrounding my child, I have arranged a replacement. Now, I’m going to have to train this one just like I trained him-”

This was, from the looks of it, not well received. The room was suddenly filled with one-sided angry shouting from the Team 7 members, _Boruto and Sarada_ , their voices growing more hysterical by the second.

"-How can you be so callous-"

“-don’t you dare drag another kid into your _sick_ games-”

"-guys! Guys!" the team captain, Konohamaru, shouted as loudly as he could, physically holding a bloodthirsty student back with each arm. The table between them was like an additional physical shield, but a very flimsy one. "I understand that you're angry, but remember that we cannot act like this in front of a child. We're supposed to talk things through, like adults."

“Quite,” Orochimaru said, tone flat, crossing their arms. “I take it you’re not interested?”

This wasn’t what the clone had been told to expect at all.

"Ehh… Can I speak to your son alone for a minute?" Konohamaru said. He motioned to his students to leave the room, and they did so while mumbling swears. Orochimaru obliged and followed after them, a knowing smirk on their face.

“Do you—Urgh, let me tell you. This is just as much of a weird day for me as it probably is for you,” Konohamaru said while scratching his cheek sheepishly. He leaned over the table between them like he was going to share a secret.“What’s your name, by the way? You never said.” His eye twitched suddenly, a pinch in his expression. Like he was trying not to show too much emotion.

“My parent did tell you my name, actually. I’m Mitsuki.”

Konohamaru flinched and sat back in his chair like the clone had hit him instead. "Y…yeah! Ok! Well, _Mitsuki._ What’s happening here is that your older brother, the first Mitsuki, I should say, was my student. And my friend. I’ve known hi— I _knew_ him for years.”

“I know. But he’s dead now.”

Konohamaru took a deep breath in, and breathed out, steadying himself. “Yes. And because he’s dead, my students and I are really sad. That’s why things are so tense right now.” Every word was so carefully spoken it seemed rehearsed.

“Because of me, right?” The clone said, tilting his head to the side. “I remind you of him, so you don’t want me here.”

Konohamaru’s face went white as a sheet. His arms flailed, hitting the table with a smack and he stood up abruptly “That’s not true! _I_ want you here. Sarada, Boruto, and everyone else who you've met today feels that way too. If you'd like, you can live here in Konoha with me. If you'd rather live with someone else that's ok too—"

“You’re lying,” the clone said, simply. “We both know you are. I’m not staying here. I’d be an inconvenience to you at best.”

“Oh. Ok,” Konohamaru said, carefully constructed cheery facade cracking and turning upside down in a blink of an eye. “Well, it’s… your choice.” He shuffled on the spot, unsure of what to do with himself.

“ _Quite_.”

The clone had nothing more to say after that and got up out of his chair to leave the meeting room. Resting his hand on the door, just about to slide it open, he looked back. Konohamaru was facing away from him, with a hand over his face. Shoulders tense, drawn into himself. Other arm clutching the back of a chair for support. The clone couldn't help but notice the soft noise of muffled sobbing coming from the man, but he didn't particularly care. Caring was too much to handle.

-

The clone closed the door behind him, expecting his parent to wait for him. But he was met with the sounds of a shouting match.

”—I can’t believe you, Orochimaru!” Sarada yelled. “ _You_ — You pull _this shit_ on us after everything we’ve been through? Did you ever stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a good idea?” 

“It’s like you don’t even care that he’s gone!” Boruto’s face was beet red from screaming at the top of his lungs. 

"That's rich," Orochimaru said, calm as ever. They glanced at the clone, only for a second. "That child was my responsibility, first and foremost, and I can manage my grief fine. Are you really so weak that you can't? I expected more from the son of the Hokage-"

Suddenly, a loud, smacking noise accompanied by the snap of delicate bone structure was heard. Orochimaru eyed with contempt the fist now embedded in their left cheek. Boruto stood frozen, just as surprised by his own actions as everyone else in the room as Orochimaru took a step back, revealing a bloody contusion and unhinged jaw marring their oh-so-perfectly thought-out facial features. The injured muscle and bone started repairing itself with an unholy wet cracking noise as soon as Boruto’s fist lost contact.

“I see,” Orochimaru seethed through gritted teeth,”—that my assertion was correct. You _are_ weak.” 

The following seconds were a flash of noise, motion, and chaos. The clone sank down to the floor, back flat against the wall. His parent charged towards Boruto, missing his face by an inch when Sarada pulled her teammate out of the way. A sudden spark of electricity flashed, blinding the clone, just as the door beside him opened and Konohamaru threw himself into the hallway.

“- _motherfucker_ -" From the sound of it, Konohamaru had body-slammed Orochimaru into the wall. Rapid footsteps, _running_ , the crackle of lightning and a loud, sharp thud.

The clone blinked their eyes open to the sight of Sarada's fist impaling his parent through their stomach. She quickly pulled her hand out, blood dripping on the floor, and retreated. That was a choice that turned out to be wise as a horde of snakes surfaced through the floor, sinking their jaws into Boruto. They did not bite into flesh, however, instead- a poof and a puff of smoke.

“We’ve got to stop this!” Konohamaru yelled, already weaving rapid hand signs for his counterattack “We can’t win!”

But his students wouldn’t listen, they only screamed with wordless rage and there was suddenly blood everywhere, _whose was it_ , the clone couldn’t figure out what was happening anymore—

"What is going on here?" a voice boomed. Golden, glowing light flooded the now severely banged up hallway.

“Naruto! What a surprise. Just a squabble, really,” Orochimaru said offhandedly, releasing their death grip on both Sarada’s and Boruto’s throats, sending them toppling onto the floor. As they coughed and hacked for air, Konohamaru launched at them, pulling them as far away from Orochimaru as possible.

The clone took a closer look at the new person in the hallway. A man, closely resembling Boruto but older, stood face to face with the clone’s parent, staring them down.

“I want you to leave and never come back,” the man, voice trembling with barely held-back fury. “You will never touch my son _ever again_.”

“Fine. I’ll find another use for this one, then.” Orochimaru shrugged, snapped their fingers, once, in the direction of the clone. Like he was nothing but a dog to them. The clone scrambled to get up, his legs strangely jelly-like, followed.

He didn’t look back at the mess behind him. Not even once.

-

The days passed slowly at the lab. The clone, despite himself, wondered what had become of Boruto, Sarada, and Konohamaru. But when he asked, he was told that they weren't worthy of much care or thought.

“They offered you to live with them?” his parent said. “It’s a good thing you refused. They would’ve hurt you like they tried to hurt me. You’re not so dumb after all.”

The praise didn’t feel good, but it was the best the clone was going to get. He’d learned as much this far. Even if it made him feel sick.

-

When the clone dreamt, he’d sometimes dream of talking to the former Mitsuki. His shape would be all wobbly, but mostly alike the picture his parent had shown him. A splitting mirror image. He wore clothes very different from the clone's scrubs, but that was the biggest difference. Usually, their conversation would go as follows;

”How did you die?” The clone asked, every time. No-one would tell him.

”Terribly.” An out of place-smile, almost teary. Sad.

“How would you know?” The clone snapped, circling the apparition like he was a prey animal. Somehow, getting angry at him was so easy. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. You’re not the real Mitsuki. None of us are.”

“Well, it’s good that you realize that. Neither of us will truly be him, but I’d say that’s a good thing.”

The clone stopped pacing. “That’s not what everyone else tells me.”

“Well, despite what you’ve been told, you are your own person. Just like he was until he died. You’ll never know what he was truly like. And there’s no point trying.”

And when they’d gotten to about this point in the dream, the former Mitsuki would disappear. Leaving the clone only more frustrated each and every time.

-

Orochimaru would mostly ignore the clone. Everyone else would too, and if they didn’t, the clone would try his best to make them leave. Something inside him, a thorny tangle of confusion and pain, started growing until it felt all-too-encompassing for him to handle. So, he started doing _things_ , things that were destructive and mean and violent, not only to others but to himself as well. Because that was all he’d ever known. Squashing all the bugs he saw inside the lab under his feet was only the beginning. When that wasn’t enough, he’d hurt himself in ways that were better to not describe in words.

-

At night, the clone would dream. At this point, he'd already gotten used to the play by play of how his dreams usually went, but one time, it was entirely different.

It went as follows:

One time, the former Mitsuki looked very different from how the clone had subconsciously imagined him in previous dreams. Not like the picture at all-- he wore different clothes, had a different haircut, even had a different posture(slightly lopsided and limping). His contours weren’t fuzzy, but crisp.

“Ugh, not you again-” the clone began, dreading the deja vu that would certainly follow.

“What?” the former Mitsuki said. “We’ve never met before. I came back to see you. I wanted to see you.”

The clone definitely didn't believe this but decided to humor it anyway.

“So, I’m guessing you’re the real deal then? Then tell me, how did you die? I’m _very_ curious.”

“Terribly,” the real Mitsuki said, without a pause, no mincing words at all.

“Great,” the clone said, rolling his eyes. “I had a feeling you might say that. Well, if that’s all you have to say, you’re of no use to me.”

“You will too. You know _they_ ’ll let it happen.”

“Like you care.” _I can’t leave_ , was what he wanted to say. _They’ll just start over with another one. I’m trapped._ But he didn’t dare speak the words. It wasn’t like he had to, though. 

“I know you feel trapped. I was the same way. But, all I was able to care about is out of my hands now. I don’t expect you to understand, but please know that if you’re capable of caring about your own well-being… Care about yourself. I was unable to, and that was my downfall.”

"Do you regret dying?" The clone awaited the answer with bated breath. Despite knowing better.

“I should, but no. I’ll never-ah, regret protecting my friends,” Mitsuki winced, scrunching up his face in pain. “I have to go. Being here... It’s too much.”

“What, already? You just got here,” as the clone realized that sounded way too needy and emotional, he added: “ _Coward_ ”. Something acidic to balance things out.“You’re just gonna leave me here to rot?” And there was it again, the pitiful weakness.

“I’m sorry you’re in this situation. I am trying to help you the best I can,” Mitsuki said, unfazed by the clone’s words even though he was obviously in physical anguish. “I want you to know that nothing that our parent did to us was my responsibility. Or yours, for that matter. Good luck.”

And thus, the clone was left alone in his black void of a dreamscape. 

Now that the clone could more accurately approximate what the real Mitsuki had been like, he wasn't so sure he liked him very much. He had been too blunt, too perceptive, and direct. He had told the clone things he didn't want to hear, and that was enough to earn a low opinion. It felt easier to blame Mitsuki rather than their parent. Somehow. He hadn't been what the clone needed, but to be fair, the clone was unsure of what his needs even were anymore. Or had ever been, for that matter.

 ~~(The real Mitsuki had been just a teenager. The same age as Boruto and Sarada. Oh god.)~~ ~~~~

The clone hoped that it had all just been a nonsensical dream. Not a real message from the afterlife. Just his mind playing tricks on him, as always. However-

It wasn’t like it really mattered, though. At all. There was no point caring about anything. Just like there was no point caring about himself.

-

And so, the years went on and the cycle would continue again and again and again and again and again and again and again until Orochimaru lost interest, flakey as they were, _always_ , and moved onto something else. What happened to the clone and his successors was unknown according to the official rapports written by the Konohagakure force guarding the lab, but maybe, just _maybe_ — the rapports stated false information in order to protect the innocent. Perhaps the clones were able to lead a new life elsewhere, hidden away from their creators clutches. Receiving the love and support they needed, and carrying out fulfilling lives.

It certainly wasn’t what Orochimaru thought had happened. But, they were never a very trustworthy sort of person either, anyway.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you've enjoyed this please leave kudos and comments below!
> 
> (i also have a character design for cloney up on my tumblr if you wanna see heheh)  
> https://falloutboiruto.tumblr.com/post/616216842156032000/so-im-writing-an-au-fanfic-original-character-do


End file.
